“WHY???”: Womanizer & Satisfyer Disposable Wave Toys


I’ll admit it—I’m a bit of a sex toy elitist. Both in starting this blog and in my own bedroom, I tend toward stronger, fancier, longer-lasting toys with price tags to match. If I’m going to buy something, I’d rather wait to save up than make compromises—which is why Womanizer’s “The One” and Satisfyer’s “One Night Stand” pulsating air toys caught me off-guard. These very similar toys cost only ten dollars each and are positioned as tasters, giving users a chance to try this relatively new type of stimulation without shelling out the roughly $60+ for a fully-featured model.

The catch? They’re completely disposable, with the Satisfyer lasting 90 minutes and the Womanizer tapping out after a mere half hour. That’s it. There’s no recharging or replacing batteries unless you can hack the device (read on…). Both toys are programmed to brick themselves after the allotted time, even before the sealed AAA batteries are completely dead.

This seems like a bad idea. Let’s give it a go!

When the toys arrived (in suspiciously similar packaging), I enlisted my girlfriend, an established pulse toy fan, to lend me a hand in testing them out. While both feel robust for their price point, we agreed that the Satisfier distinguished itself with a slightly more solid and streamlined feeling in the hand. Only the Womanizer’s removable silicone head makes it possible to clean between sessions or users, if that matters given its 30-minutes service life. Initial impressions made, we started a timer, set both toys on their most powerful settings, and settled in for some playtime.

For those unfamiliar with air pulse toys, they basically use a small, oscillating silicone cup to stimulate through light, pulsing suction, usually on the clit. They create a sensation slightly different from a traditional vibrator, and they can often be much quieter.

The Womanizer feels rumblier, while the Satisfier is buzzier and more powerful, as if the Satisfier has a higher pulse frequency but the Womanizer has a slightly greater amplitude. Especially when used on my frenulum, the Womanizer’s protruding, soft silicone head makes it easier to create a comfortable suction seal for strong, focused stimulation where the Satisfyer’s more plastic-y head cannot. Both toys fit to my girlfriend’s clit well and created nice gentle stimulation, especially when stronger settings were paired with a bit of lube to enhance the seal. We both would have preferred more intense stimulation from both toys, and the finer control offered by the Satisfyer’s four power settings compared to the Womanizer’s three didn’t make much difference.

While neither toy is quite as strong or comfortable in the hand as their multi-use siblings like the Satisfyer Pro 2, my girlfriend and I agreed that they are generally pleasant to use. They stayed true to their stated time limits with no noticeable change in power, diligently shutting off at exactly 30 and 90 minutes, respectively.

But, when the Satisfyer shut itself off and the dust settled, neither of us had even gotten close to cumming.

Both toys disappoint for one simple reason: it’s hard to get off when you can’t stop watching the clock. Even with the Satisfyer’s more generous 90-minute timer, knowing that your sex toy is counting down the seconds to oblivion like a masturbatory time-bomb is just not sexy, a flaw only exacerbated by the fact that, unlike vibrating dildos, air pulse toys are truly useless without their powered functions. These factors combine to create a sense of designed hostility; these toys are literally designed to let you down.

And that’s not even the worst part.

To put it mildly, selling an item designed to turn itself into e-waste in the course of an evening is wildly unethical, especially without so much as a recycling program or pay-to-unlock system to lessen the environmental impact. Both the Satisfyer and Womanizer utilize a sealed clamshell design and mix of plastics that will make them hard for electronics recyclers to deal with, and, as shown in the Teardown section of this post, the disposable nature of both toys is purely profit- rather than design-driven. Womanizer’s parent Wow Tech and Satisfyer should seriously reconsider this product category.


Now that both toys’ timers have run out, it’s time to dive in, see what makes them tick, and find out if we can hack our way around that pesky self-bricking “feature.”

Beginning with the Satisfyer, pulling the rather beefy two-piece ABS clamshell apart reveals the mysteries within. The injection-molded halves of the case are impressively designed, with neat alignment pins to keep the two sections together and tight tolerances on interior features that hold components in place with a friction fit. Often a surprisingly hard thing to get right, this mold has clearly been made with care.

Near the bottom of the device sits a lone, small PCB with control circuitry powered by two standard AAA batteries, which largely account for the toy’s weight and robust feeling. Towards the top left sits a small DC motor, which rotates a lubricated semi-flexible linkage to oscillate the toy’s silicone diaphragm and create air pulses. Even after 90 minutes of use, the batteries were far from flat, and the diaphragm linkage assembly rotated smoothly, confirming my suspicion that the toy’s time limit is enforced in firmware rather than the result of some hardware limitation.

A closer look at the two-layer PCB doesn’t reveal much. The circuit consists of just one unmarked IC, two ceramic capacitors, a diode, a resistor, and a pushbutton for user input. The IC is almost certainly a very simple microcontroller, but, without any further clues as to its provenance or an immediately responsive reset pin, I decided to save my hacking efforts for the Womanizer.

The Womanizer’s ABS case stubbornly resists prying, but cutting some of its internal pins with a rotary tool allows for easy access. While this toy’s outer ABS case is slightly simpler, it contains two other plastic parts that clip the components together.

The toy operates on the same principle as the Satisfier, using a small DC motor to oscillate a silicone diaphragm, this time with a slightly tighter, better-made linkage. However, the Womanizer uses just one AAA battery and is controlled by a significantly more complicated circuit.

The two-layer PCB has a discrete transistor that switches current to the motor, a four-position DIP switch for user input, a bunch of passives, and four IC’s. Voltage regulators boost the single battery’s voltage to a suitable level for driving the motor while another small microcontroller, this time an A262AFB, provides the brains of the operation. I couldn’t find any information on this particular chip, but the board’s silkscreen provides some clues. Most notably, the via marked “CLEAR” creates the tantalizing suggestion of a way to reset the chip, hopefully allowing for another 30 minutes of play time.

Unfortunately, after significant experimenting and poking around, it does not seem that either of vias near the “CLEAR” label is a true reset line, although all is not lost. Connecting both via’s simultaneously to the base of transistor T1 often (though not always) seems to glitch and reset the device. Just like that, the Womanizer is back in action for another 30 minutes.

A small switch between these two points allows for easy glitching by rapidly disconnecting and reconnecting them, and it even conveniently fits into the little access hole I cut to open the Womanizer in the first place. Now I can glitch the microcontroller for effectively unlimited 30-minute cycles.

Sketchy? Yes! Beautiful? Also yes!

All things considered, both the Womanizer’s The One and the Satisfyer One Night Stand are examples of good technical design applied to a terrible product strategy. They feel good in the hand, are mechanically solid enough to survive a few drops and run far longer than their intended service life, and create air pulse stimulation that, while far from earth-shattering, is impressive for their $10 price point. Without the lines of code make them useless after little more than one play session, I’d be buying them as gifts and recommending them to everyone I know.

Sometimes, hackable sex toys are fun, encouraging me to explore and think up quirky new features to make them truly feel like mine. But the fact remains that very few people have the tools, skills, or time to cut and solder a bricked Womanizer into a real, semi-usable sex toy. Instead, both The One and The One Night Stand leave me with a bad taste in my mouth, teasing the nice, affordable products they could have been before being undermined by environmentally ruinous programmed disposability.

This is where I would normally link to a product page, but guess what? Not this time! Full editorial control means I don’t have to try to sell you on stuff like this. Instead, please consider supporting the Inside Sex Toys Patreon to help me test & tear down more cool stuff!


Rumble Research: Magic Wand Rechargeable Teardown


For all the high-tech sex toys in my collection, the ones I feel most connected with—my strapon, some silicone dildos, perhaps a steel plug or two—are decidedly analog. They’re simple, adapt to fit my evolving style, and last long enough to make some memories. So far, only one vibrator has ever joined these particularly well-loved ranks: the Magic Wand Rechargeable.

My beloved Magic Wand Rechargeable

Manufactured by Hitachi and distributed under the Vibratex name, The Magic Wand Rechargeable is an update to the original Magic Wand vibrator first sold in the early ‘70s.   It adds more power settings, vibration patterns, a silicone head, and, most importantly, freedom from the wall socket, while keeping the original’s beloved power and industrial design.

By doing one thing—rumbly vibration, and doing it breathtakingly well, the Magic Wand Rechargeable is infinitely useful. I love using mine to add vibration to dildos and plugs, turning up the power to balance on the edge of overstimulation in predicament bondage, and even taking the silicone head internally! I tested its battery life at a clit-ruining 3 hours and 20 minutes on the highest vibration setting, more than enough for anything I’ve dreamt up so far. Though the toy isn’t officially waterproof, every seam is gasketed, so it easily shrugs off all the lube and squirt my partners and I can throw at it.

I love the wand in part because it helped me to re-discover my body’s sexual response as it changed over the course of gender transition, all while bringing me to a boatload of affirming orgasms along the way 😉  Unlike more complicated alternatives, it doesn’t require any particular body type, position, or adjustments—it’s just an easy way to put as much vibration as I want wherever I want it.

Basically, this toy is one of the best and most popular on the market, which is why I wanted to make it the inaugural teardown on this blog. It’s not perfect, but we can think of it as a baseline for successful engineering.


The Magic Wand Rechargeable has two main sections—the head, covered by a white silicone sleeve, and the beige ABS handle, joined by a flexible, silicone-sleeved neck that connects the electronics and motor in the handle to the mechanical vibration mechanism in the head while isolating the handle from too much hand-jarring vibration.

Reverse view of wand with screws removed

Removing a few Phillips-head screws (all conveniently exposed) allowed me to pull the chrome plastic collar up and separate the handle, revealing the sexy engineering secrets within.

Screws removed to reveal electronics inside the handle.

And here’s where the surprises begin—this this is MODULAR! The bottom half of the case holds a standard Sanyo 18650 li-ion cell housed in its own plastic enclosure and connected to the main board in the top half with a crimped connector, glued lightly in place. This is extremely surprising, not only because the connector adds significant cost over simple solder joints but also because it will likely be more prone to failure in a vibrating device like this. While easy pluggability is fantastic from a repair or recycling perspective, it’s still a confusing choice here.

Sanyo 18650 Battery cell

In the top half of the case, our journey continues with the main control board, a tiny board for the DC jack, and the motor and its safety thermistor, both also connected to the main board with socketed connectors. The main PCB is double-sided, but all the action is happening right here on top.

Main control PCB (front)

On the right, we see the brains of the operation—an impressively full-featured Elan EM78-series microcontroller, which handles everything from the Magic Wand’s button inputs to generating PWM signals to control the different vibration modes. It even includes analog-to-digital converters to monitor thermocouple temperature sensors on both the motor and battery. While this microcontroller might not as well-documented or easy to hack on as an AVR or PIC, another microcontroller could easily be grafted in for custom patterns and control modes (stay tuned…).

Next, the two middle chips are a MEM2309 P-Channel MOSFET [datasheet] and an A308 (the 14-SOIC package), which appears to be a charge monitoring device. These work together to manage and protect the lithium ion battery.

Finally, we have two more MOSFET’s on the left—an Alpha and Omega 4803 dual P-channel [datasheet] (though only one of the two is used) and a NCEPower 3010 N-channel [datasheet], which switch current to drive the motor.

The reverse side of the board is much simpler, with a sea of passive components, a few small transistors and voltage regulators, and buttons for user inputs. Though relatively well-protected by a silicone cover, these surface-mounted buttons introduce the potential for solder joint failure due to repeated board flex from heavy-handed presses. This may be a nitpick, but it’s a notable departure from the original Magic Wand’s simple, case-mounted rocker switch.

Main control PCB (back)

The only user feedback (other than vibration, of course) is provided by LED’s here on the back of the board, which interface with a dual-shot injection molded light pipe assembly to shine through the outer enclosure.

Main Enclosure (bottom), button cover assembly (top left), and light pipe (top right)

Now here’s where things really get movin’—once its board connectors are separated, the motor and head assembly can be pulled and separated for a closer look.

Motor and head assembly removed from handle

The DC motor is rated for 7400rpm at 8.4 volts. The original Magic Wand was plagued with overheating issues, and the lessons learned from that are very evident here— after all, a lithium-ion battery fire on your genitals is definitely the wrong kind of hot. To help keep temperature under control, a small plastic fan is mounted to the motor’s output shaft, and both a thermocouple and automatically resetting thermal cutoff are mounted to the motor casing to shut it off in case things get toasty. The fan may not be terribly effective inside a sealed enclosure, but redundant thermal cutoffs are definitely enough to put my mind at ease.

Head assembly and motor with thermocouple, thermal cutoff, and fan

The motor shaft connects to the vibrating mechanism in the head through a round spring acting as a drive shaft, which helps to isolate the handle from vibration and allows the head to flex a bit.

Neck flange and drive shaft spring connecting to head assembly

While the teardown to this point is easy and entirely reversible, things get a bit more complicated and… umm… destructive when it comes to the head. Let’s just say that I spent a few hours wailing and twisting on this thing with every tool on my bench before just giving up and cutting around the edge of the silicone head cover. It still works, I just have to be a bit more careful of fluids getting in.

Head assembly with silicone and foam cover removed (right)

Pulling the head cover off reveals a dense foam inner-lining and the beautifully molded nylon body of the vibration mechanism itself. Even after removing a few screws and sawing off a section in frustration, cleanly separating the translucent nylon head from the springy metal neck and its silicone cover proved impossible. Unwilling to completely destroy the toy (it’s just that good…), I opted to just pry to the head open to get a look inside.

This is the magic behind the magic wand. Regardless of whether you’re turning it with a battery or mains power, this mechanism has been getting people off for decades, and it’s not hard to see why.

Two rubber-jacketed bearings hold a shaft with a BEEFY asymmetrical punched steel weight. Pretty much all vibrators work by swinging an unbalanced weight around, but sheer mass of this one is what makes the Magic Wand and other rumbly vibrators special. The bearings ultimately transmit that vibration to the outer shell, and smaller, cheaper ones can wear out quickly from the high radial load of a powerful vibrator. I’ll be particularly interested to see how these bearings compare to the ones we find in future teardowns.

By this point my girlfriend was accusing me of forcing her into chastity by taking her favorite toy out of commission, so, having seen where it all goes down, I screwed the head back together and left one last Inside Sex Toys flourish before beginning to piece it back together…

“Customized” head assembly XD

You can pick up a Magic Wand Rechargeable of your own at SheVibe [link], Stockroom [link], Pleasure Chest [link], and many more feminist, queer-friendly community sex shops!